We move on Thursday. And before you go frantically clicking the "back" button, all, ENOUGH WITH THE MOVING, LADY, MY GOD, I mention this only to give you some context. Specifically, some context into the fact that my two-year-old decided that now -- NOWNOWNOW -- would be the optimal time for her to toilet train herself.
In hindsight, I should have picked up on the fact that Lo would pull something like this, given that her behavior of late is akin to Lindsay Lohan's, circa 2007. (Or always.) She recently figured out how to stealthily remove her diaper, and then not-so-stealthily streak down the hallway, pantsless, shrieking "look at MEEEEEEEE" before careening into any number of large (plastic toy) cars. On the bright side, she is not ornery or -- to my knowledge -- drunk.
This carries over into the night, as well, in that she's been taking off her diaper once she's already in her crib, allegedly settling in for the evening. If we're lucky, she'll crow "I did it!" which tends to tip us off that it's time to go retrieve said diaper. From the hallway floor, since she tosses it outside the room, if she can. If we're not, we'll find ourselves tripping over a diaper when we go in to check on the kids before we go to sleep. I fully believe she is taunting us.
With this background, it should come as no surprise that she decided to toilet train herself earlier this week. Because: of course. I had NOTHING to do with this, I swear. It's not like I made her sit there on some naturally-sourced, hand-hewn olivewood potty, while I sat strumming my (as-yet-nonexistent) guitar, and practicing her Latin flashcards. This was all her, and while the timing could not be worse...
Did I mention that the new place has just been almost fully carpeted? Pray for us, you guys. And our security deposit.